A herd of swine
may run violently down a hill.
This is not a strange occurrence —
it happens all the time,
betrayal hard on the heels of betrayal,
blame hard on the heels of blame,
all those justifications, all those
indignant and disappointing stories
following each other to their
collective destruction

What’s wonderful, and what may seem miraculous
is what remains when all the herd is gone,
the beatific peace
that was your essence all along,
ultimate justice, fruit of an act
that’s truly kind,
to sit now clothed and quiet
in your right mind.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 12, 2017